bloodyrockgod | (no subject)

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The suite is still a suite, though Charlie's been thinking about converting it back to a single room. But maybe he'll want a roommate . . .

Or have a room available for Seth while Charlie entertains elsewhere.

He hsuts the door behind Claire and smiles at her as he puts his guitar away. "Is he sleepy?"

[ooc: canon happens. adult content.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yes," she says, outloud, and she knows because she hears it, feels it.

"God, Charlie," and she turns her head so he won't he see the tears, because maybe he wouldn't understand. Or maybe he would.

She isn't sure, really, which she'd rather be the case.

He turns her head back and kisses her eyelids and cheeks. "Sh, sh, love, does it hurt? Do I need to stop?"

"No," she says softly, and smiles. "Don't stop."

She clenches around him to distract him.

"Don't you dare stop."

He gasps and shakes his head, teeth sinking into his lip.

Another smile and she does it again. And then again, pulling his head to her so she can kiss him, sliding her tongue along his in the same maddening rhythm of their bodies.

He groans into her mouth, planting his hands on either side of her head and snapping his hips against her.

The sound she makes is desperate and if she were willing to pull her mouth from his, she'd tell him not to stop, again. Beg him not to stop, because what he's doing right now is causing something different to build inside her, blooming in the very core of her.

Oh, he's not stopping, not stopping yet, willing himself not to stop ever if he can help it because god damn it's just so good to be someplace so hot and tight and wet and welcoming.

She kisses him, whimpering into his mouth, louder and louder, but she doesn't even notice because bloody hell this one's going to kill her, and she's going to let it, and if he stopped she'd probably cry, and she might cry again anyways, because he doesn't stop and it just keeps building and building and building and then she has to pull her mouth away and

scream

because it suddenly explodes inside her.

He's overwhelmed, swept away, caught up in her power and sent tumbling after her.

The silence is sudden and full.

He killed her.

Except he didn't, and after a moment, when she finds herself again, she lays there underneath him, trembling and gasping and never more vulnerable than right there in that moment.

He kisses her mouth tenderly, stroking back her damp hair from her face. "You okay?"

She laughs, startled, because surely he's kidding, right?

"Yes, Charlie," she says and reaches shakey fingertips up to caress his cheek.

"How are you?"

"I am excellent, love." He looks at her tenderly. "I am very, very good."

He rolls them onto their sides. "Completely knackered, though."

"Me too," she yawns and snuggles up against him.

"Why do you not have a minibar or something in here?" she mumbles against his chest.

"Because this room is for sleeping. And sometimes making a pillow fort." He yawns.

"You do. . .this. . . in this room more than you sleep, Charlie," she points out matter-of-factly.

And also sleepily.

"That is completely not true. There has been a distinct lack of sex lately."

"Yeah," she sighs in agreement. "Stupid breakups."

"Speak not of such things." He touches her lips lightly.

She kisses his fingertips.

Charlie smiles and nudges her mouth to his for more kisses.

More kisses then.

Until she yawns again and spoils the whole effect.

"We should sleep," she reasons.

"Yup. Should." He sighs and untangles them, and sits on the edge of the bed a moment. "Gonna wash up a bit."

He looks at her over his shoulder. "You're . . . please stay."

She sits up, covering herself with the sheet and reaches out for him, resting her forehead against his.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Today, at least.

"I should go take a shower too. And check on Seth."